It would all have seemed the same if things hadn't been changed so
drastically for Buffy in the past few days. She sat with Willow on her bed,
waiting for Cordelia's call. Willow continued to set up the requirements for
the memory spell.
Suddenly, Willow stopped and looked at her intently. Buffy ran her hands
over her rapidly healing face to make sure nothing was on it. "What? You're
making me paranoid."
A small smile edged over Willow's face and then she sobered. "Do you want to
forget too?"
Buffy's eyes widened but she remained silent for a moment, sitting back.
"What do you mean?"
"I can make you forget that this happened, too. Not just Harmony and
everyone else who knows, whoever you want. Even me. It's possible, you
know." Willow's eyes started to shine; She wasn't hiding the fact that she
liked the idea.
Slowly, Buffy shook her head. "I'm sorry, Will," she said softly. "I need
to remember. At least for a while. I can't let them get aw-- I just can't
forget yet." She looked up hopefully. "Could you... You know, turn back
time? Make it so that it didn't happen?"
Willow looked down at the few candles on the bed, waiting to be lit. After a
moment, she cleared her throat, brushing away a stray tear that found its way
down her cheek. "I'm sorry. I can't. I don't have that kind of power.
I'm... I'm not sure anyone does."
Buffy's heart fell, but she nodded understandingly. "It's okay," she assured
her friend. "Really. Let's just... make sure that all of the people who
aren't supposed to know, don't. Is the chanting done?"
Willow nodded. "Yeah. All that's left is the lighting of the candles.
Then, poof. No more memory of you and... They won't remember any of the
rumors."
Silence blanketed the suddenly awkward moment. After a moment Buffy cleared
her throat and smiled mutely.
The phone rang, and they both sighed with relief. It was Cordelia.
"Uh huh... Yeah... Okay..." Willow's pen worked furiously and Buffy got
increasingly worried about how many people had heard the rumors about her.
After a few minutes of continuous "Uh huh"ing, Willow finally hung up and
clapped her hands together.
"All right! Do you want to light the candles, or do you want me to?"
"Wait," Buffy murmured. Willow paused and looked at her. "What was the
final count?"
"You don't want to know, Buffy," Willow said softly.
Buffy turned away and nodded. "You light the candles."
Willow set the list of names in the center of the circle of candles and lit
each one. She watched quietly as the paper vanished with a soft swishing
noise. Buffy's voice was clipped when she spoke again. "Done?"
Willow sighed. "Done."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The night was silent. Inky darkness whispered around Buffy as she patrolled.
Two vamps, no men. She checked her watch impatiently, sighing when she saw
that it was only a little after midnight.
A twig snapped behind her and she spun, raising her stake menacingly. Giving
the vampire no room to say something annoying, she sprang forward and they
tumbled down onto the soft grass. The vampire grunted as she straddled his
stomach, backhanding him with one hand, and then the other. Blood gushed out
of his nose as it broke with a crunch. Buffy grinned maliciously, her stake
driving into his shoulder and pinning him to the ground. His free arm
reached up to weakly encircle her neck as he tried to gather his bearings.
"Want to fuck with me tonight?" she growled angrily. His eyes took on the
edge of panic and she smiled again, brushing his grasping hand away from her
face and neck. She took hold of his fingers and stilled as he continued to
stare at her in shock. Smiling a little more gently, she stroked his hand,
and then began to snap his fingers one by one.
He yelled in pain, utter terror. Obviously, this wasn't his lucky night.
With the last bit of his strength, he disengaged his shoulder from the stake
and pulled his hand free from Buffy's hurting grip. Rolling over on top of
her, he let his blood drip onto her face. She gritted her teeth as images
flashed behind her eyes. On top of her, using her, hurting her. This
vampires weight was light and he was tired and weak from a sound beating, but
that didn't matter. She raised her head and it smashed into his skull. His
eyes rolled back in the sockets, his elongated teeth cutting at his own lips.
Suddenly, he was gone, and what she was left staring at was Faith, holding a
stake above her. The quiet stretched and she helped her up.
"Why did you do that?" Buffy snapped. "I thought you were the one who got
all juiced with a good vampire beating."
"I am," Faith muttered. "And you're not. Which leads me to believe that
either that pathetic looking thing you were wailing on did something really
horrible to you, or that you're taking out your fury over what happened to
you on him." Faith smiled at her as they began walking. "It's choice fury,
though."
Buffy looked away. "Who the hell told you?"
"Giles." She rolled her eyes. "He wanted me to go easy on you."
"And what do you know about it?"
Faith smirked. "You think I lived on the streets before I was a Slayer
without learning some lessons? God, you're as ditzy as a blond in a joke."
Buffy stopped walking and faced her; the trees rustled quietly above them.
"You too?"
"Of course me too," Faith said in a light voice. "Doesn't mean anything. It
didn't mean anything then either. It doesn't matter, B. Never did. You're
making something out of nothing when you could just forget it and go on with
your life. Kick some demon ass, but know why you're doing it."
"Where's Giles?" Buffy asked grimly.
Faith nodded in the direction of the parking lot across the street. "Over
there. He wants to talk to you."
"Yeah, okay. You got the patrol?" Faith nodded and Buffy left the
conversation where it was, dashing off toward his car. She slipped inside as
soon as she got there. "Go easy on me?" she asked stiffly.
Giles's face registered surprise and then he sighed and nodded. "Yes. I'm
sorry, perhaps it wasn't my place to tell her or..."
"Of course it wasn't your place!" she shouted. Giles flinched at the sound
in his car. "I mean, what do you think? Do you think that everyone needs to
know? That everyone needs to feel sorry for me? God, you might as well have
told Harmony."
"I didn't realize that Faith would tell anyone," he said quietly.
"She won't," Buffy muttered, "But that's not the point, is it?"
With surprising quickness, Giles turned to her and took her shoulders in his
hands. Giving her a gentle shake, he pinned her with his eyes. "Buffy,
listen to yourself! One moment you're fine, you don't wish anyone to know,
convinced that if all is quiet, you will heal. And then you cry, quietly
talking about how you might never heal. The next, you are angry and sullen,
yelling at those who care about you, those who you care about!" He dropped
her shoulders with a repentant look. "I don't wish these feelings on you,
Buffy. But I'm getting increasingly worried about your state of mind." His
head dropped. "I don't know what to do."
Buffy stared at him in shock. After a moment, she touched his hand. "I'm
sorry..."
"No," Giles murmured tiredly. "You have no reason to be sorry. I don't have
any answers. I don't know how I'm supposed to behave under circumstances
like these. And you don't either."
Tears slipped out, spilling onto her cheeks and she wiped at them quickly.
"I'm sorry for how I've been acting, which *is* up to me. You're right. I
have been..." She searched for the right words. "A basketcase. I still am."
Her voice was miserable, fatigued, and she rested her head against his arm
for a moment. "I wish I didn't feel like this, but I do. It's like, one
minute I'm fine and getting better and then I'm so mad I can hardly see
straight, and then I can't see through my tears."
Giles gave her hand a small squeeze. "I feel the same, oddly enough."
A small laugh escaped her lips and she smiled up at him. "Faith has the
patrol. I know... I know we're really not supposed to take time off of being
us, but do you want to..." She looked down, not knowing what she was about
to say. "I mean, my birthday was sort of... Do you want to maybe go to a
movie with me or something? It's not the ice show, but it could be okay."
His eyes were gentle when he looked at his Slayer this time, gentle and
affectionate and sad. "Of course." He turned the key in the ignition and
the car sputtered before starting. "Anything in particular?"
She sat back against seat, laying her head against the headrest. "Anything
but a chick flick. I don't think I can handle any more tears or sadness
tonight."
Giles flashed a smile at her. "As you wish."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel paused on his way into his mansion. He'd had the feeling that he was
being followed for about four blocks. Calmly going inside and leaving the
door unlocked, he made his way downstairs and began building a fire.
He heard a noise behind him, but didn't look up. "Why didn't you just come
up to me on the street?"
"I wanted to talk to you here," Xander said. "You're the only one around,
right?"
Angel finally turned to face him. He nodded. "What's going on?" he asked
warily.
Xander glared at him for a long moment and Angel felt strangely like he was
being inspected. The mutual dislike between Angel and Xander was never
denied, so he wondered why the boy would be coming to him, of all people, for
anything. He gestured to the couch and Xander sat, his eyes still studying
the vampire.
Angel sat in the chair next to the couch and raised his eyebrows. "I'm
assuming that you actually had something to say."
Xander lifted his head. "Listen, I know you're in love with Buffy and
everything," he said haltingly, as if he was going to choke on his words.
Angel merely watched him, waiting for him to get to the point. Xander nodded
again. "But this has just been bothering me."
"What has?"
"This... whole situation. I thought you had your soul."
Angel's eyes snapped to him, and Xander met his gaze squarely. "I do have my
soul," he said firmly. "Though, I'll admit that when I found out about this,
I felt almost like..."
"You didn't," Xander stated.
"Yeah."
"So, why are you doing this then?"
Angel shifted in his chair. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I hate them," Xander said simply. "Because they've made
everything... wrong for her and all of us, and I hate them for it."
"Does it mean you don't have a soul?"
Xander swallowed. "Okay. Understood."
Their gazes broke away from each other and they looked at the fire, settling
into an oddly comfortable silence. And the night stretched on between them.
drastically for Buffy in the past few days. She sat with Willow on her bed,
waiting for Cordelia's call. Willow continued to set up the requirements for
the memory spell.
Suddenly, Willow stopped and looked at her intently. Buffy ran her hands
over her rapidly healing face to make sure nothing was on it. "What? You're
making me paranoid."
A small smile edged over Willow's face and then she sobered. "Do you want to
forget too?"
Buffy's eyes widened but she remained silent for a moment, sitting back.
"What do you mean?"
"I can make you forget that this happened, too. Not just Harmony and
everyone else who knows, whoever you want. Even me. It's possible, you
know." Willow's eyes started to shine; She wasn't hiding the fact that she
liked the idea.
Slowly, Buffy shook her head. "I'm sorry, Will," she said softly. "I need
to remember. At least for a while. I can't let them get aw-- I just can't
forget yet." She looked up hopefully. "Could you... You know, turn back
time? Make it so that it didn't happen?"
Willow looked down at the few candles on the bed, waiting to be lit. After a
moment, she cleared her throat, brushing away a stray tear that found its way
down her cheek. "I'm sorry. I can't. I don't have that kind of power.
I'm... I'm not sure anyone does."
Buffy's heart fell, but she nodded understandingly. "It's okay," she assured
her friend. "Really. Let's just... make sure that all of the people who
aren't supposed to know, don't. Is the chanting done?"
Willow nodded. "Yeah. All that's left is the lighting of the candles.
Then, poof. No more memory of you and... They won't remember any of the
rumors."
Silence blanketed the suddenly awkward moment. After a moment Buffy cleared
her throat and smiled mutely.
The phone rang, and they both sighed with relief. It was Cordelia.
"Uh huh... Yeah... Okay..." Willow's pen worked furiously and Buffy got
increasingly worried about how many people had heard the rumors about her.
After a few minutes of continuous "Uh huh"ing, Willow finally hung up and
clapped her hands together.
"All right! Do you want to light the candles, or do you want me to?"
"Wait," Buffy murmured. Willow paused and looked at her. "What was the
final count?"
"You don't want to know, Buffy," Willow said softly.
Buffy turned away and nodded. "You light the candles."
Willow set the list of names in the center of the circle of candles and lit
each one. She watched quietly as the paper vanished with a soft swishing
noise. Buffy's voice was clipped when she spoke again. "Done?"
Willow sighed. "Done."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The night was silent. Inky darkness whispered around Buffy as she patrolled.
Two vamps, no men. She checked her watch impatiently, sighing when she saw
that it was only a little after midnight.
A twig snapped behind her and she spun, raising her stake menacingly. Giving
the vampire no room to say something annoying, she sprang forward and they
tumbled down onto the soft grass. The vampire grunted as she straddled his
stomach, backhanding him with one hand, and then the other. Blood gushed out
of his nose as it broke with a crunch. Buffy grinned maliciously, her stake
driving into his shoulder and pinning him to the ground. His free arm
reached up to weakly encircle her neck as he tried to gather his bearings.
"Want to fuck with me tonight?" she growled angrily. His eyes took on the
edge of panic and she smiled again, brushing his grasping hand away from her
face and neck. She took hold of his fingers and stilled as he continued to
stare at her in shock. Smiling a little more gently, she stroked his hand,
and then began to snap his fingers one by one.
He yelled in pain, utter terror. Obviously, this wasn't his lucky night.
With the last bit of his strength, he disengaged his shoulder from the stake
and pulled his hand free from Buffy's hurting grip. Rolling over on top of
her, he let his blood drip onto her face. She gritted her teeth as images
flashed behind her eyes. On top of her, using her, hurting her. This
vampires weight was light and he was tired and weak from a sound beating, but
that didn't matter. She raised her head and it smashed into his skull. His
eyes rolled back in the sockets, his elongated teeth cutting at his own lips.
Suddenly, he was gone, and what she was left staring at was Faith, holding a
stake above her. The quiet stretched and she helped her up.
"Why did you do that?" Buffy snapped. "I thought you were the one who got
all juiced with a good vampire beating."
"I am," Faith muttered. "And you're not. Which leads me to believe that
either that pathetic looking thing you were wailing on did something really
horrible to you, or that you're taking out your fury over what happened to
you on him." Faith smiled at her as they began walking. "It's choice fury,
though."
Buffy looked away. "Who the hell told you?"
"Giles." She rolled her eyes. "He wanted me to go easy on you."
"And what do you know about it?"
Faith smirked. "You think I lived on the streets before I was a Slayer
without learning some lessons? God, you're as ditzy as a blond in a joke."
Buffy stopped walking and faced her; the trees rustled quietly above them.
"You too?"
"Of course me too," Faith said in a light voice. "Doesn't mean anything. It
didn't mean anything then either. It doesn't matter, B. Never did. You're
making something out of nothing when you could just forget it and go on with
your life. Kick some demon ass, but know why you're doing it."
"Where's Giles?" Buffy asked grimly.
Faith nodded in the direction of the parking lot across the street. "Over
there. He wants to talk to you."
"Yeah, okay. You got the patrol?" Faith nodded and Buffy left the
conversation where it was, dashing off toward his car. She slipped inside as
soon as she got there. "Go easy on me?" she asked stiffly.
Giles's face registered surprise and then he sighed and nodded. "Yes. I'm
sorry, perhaps it wasn't my place to tell her or..."
"Of course it wasn't your place!" she shouted. Giles flinched at the sound
in his car. "I mean, what do you think? Do you think that everyone needs to
know? That everyone needs to feel sorry for me? God, you might as well have
told Harmony."
"I didn't realize that Faith would tell anyone," he said quietly.
"She won't," Buffy muttered, "But that's not the point, is it?"
With surprising quickness, Giles turned to her and took her shoulders in his
hands. Giving her a gentle shake, he pinned her with his eyes. "Buffy,
listen to yourself! One moment you're fine, you don't wish anyone to know,
convinced that if all is quiet, you will heal. And then you cry, quietly
talking about how you might never heal. The next, you are angry and sullen,
yelling at those who care about you, those who you care about!" He dropped
her shoulders with a repentant look. "I don't wish these feelings on you,
Buffy. But I'm getting increasingly worried about your state of mind." His
head dropped. "I don't know what to do."
Buffy stared at him in shock. After a moment, she touched his hand. "I'm
sorry..."
"No," Giles murmured tiredly. "You have no reason to be sorry. I don't have
any answers. I don't know how I'm supposed to behave under circumstances
like these. And you don't either."
Tears slipped out, spilling onto her cheeks and she wiped at them quickly.
"I'm sorry for how I've been acting, which *is* up to me. You're right. I
have been..." She searched for the right words. "A basketcase. I still am."
Her voice was miserable, fatigued, and she rested her head against his arm
for a moment. "I wish I didn't feel like this, but I do. It's like, one
minute I'm fine and getting better and then I'm so mad I can hardly see
straight, and then I can't see through my tears."
Giles gave her hand a small squeeze. "I feel the same, oddly enough."
A small laugh escaped her lips and she smiled up at him. "Faith has the
patrol. I know... I know we're really not supposed to take time off of being
us, but do you want to..." She looked down, not knowing what she was about
to say. "I mean, my birthday was sort of... Do you want to maybe go to a
movie with me or something? It's not the ice show, but it could be okay."
His eyes were gentle when he looked at his Slayer this time, gentle and
affectionate and sad. "Of course." He turned the key in the ignition and
the car sputtered before starting. "Anything in particular?"
She sat back against seat, laying her head against the headrest. "Anything
but a chick flick. I don't think I can handle any more tears or sadness
tonight."
Giles flashed a smile at her. "As you wish."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel paused on his way into his mansion. He'd had the feeling that he was
being followed for about four blocks. Calmly going inside and leaving the
door unlocked, he made his way downstairs and began building a fire.
He heard a noise behind him, but didn't look up. "Why didn't you just come
up to me on the street?"
"I wanted to talk to you here," Xander said. "You're the only one around,
right?"
Angel finally turned to face him. He nodded. "What's going on?" he asked
warily.
Xander glared at him for a long moment and Angel felt strangely like he was
being inspected. The mutual dislike between Angel and Xander was never
denied, so he wondered why the boy would be coming to him, of all people, for
anything. He gestured to the couch and Xander sat, his eyes still studying
the vampire.
Angel sat in the chair next to the couch and raised his eyebrows. "I'm
assuming that you actually had something to say."
Xander lifted his head. "Listen, I know you're in love with Buffy and
everything," he said haltingly, as if he was going to choke on his words.
Angel merely watched him, waiting for him to get to the point. Xander nodded
again. "But this has just been bothering me."
"What has?"
"This... whole situation. I thought you had your soul."
Angel's eyes snapped to him, and Xander met his gaze squarely. "I do have my
soul," he said firmly. "Though, I'll admit that when I found out about this,
I felt almost like..."
"You didn't," Xander stated.
"Yeah."
"So, why are you doing this then?"
Angel shifted in his chair. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I hate them," Xander said simply. "Because they've made
everything... wrong for her and all of us, and I hate them for it."
"Does it mean you don't have a soul?"
Xander swallowed. "Okay. Understood."
Their gazes broke away from each other and they looked at the fire, settling
into an oddly comfortable silence. And the night stretched on between them.